


Broken

by gibbsandtonysbabe



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:44:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gibbsandtonysbabe/pseuds/gibbsandtonysbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life can change in an instant leaving you broken trying to find your way through the darkness. There is no easy way to traverse the pain and no magic spell that can put you back together again. In the end all you can do is breathe and hope that is enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my wonderful and awesome Beta Amy! Her encouragement was just what I needed.
> 
> I have never written a deathfic...as a matter of fact I have always avoided them at all cost. But again it was on my Bingo card and instead of running from it I decided to face it head on. Truly was one of the hardest things I have done...but I faced that demon and didn't shy away. In the end I am rather proud of that...though I am not sure that I will ever write another.

Tony's hand reached out to caress the cool stone and he was surprised at the comfort he found there. This was the first time he had been this close since the burial. As much as he had wanted to go nearer, he couldn't. He had tried and after sitting at a distance for hours, he had to turn away and go home.

 

Home...that wasn't the same either. Empty...too quiet and lacking the warmth that it had before. Before...God he wished he could go back to that time because the here and now sucked. The pain...the emptiness was becoming far more than he could bear. He needed ...he needed what he couldn't have.

 

For two years he had visited almost weekly, sometimes more and sat on a bench about 15 feet away, never daring to get closer somehow feeling that that would make it even more real. How much more real could it get? Regardless of the irrationality of that thought he couldn't get any closer...couldn't say what he needed to say. Hell he hadn't been able to speak at all, no matter how much he needed or wanted to.

 

He had tried to be strong for everyone and he put on one hell of a brave front...until he was home alone...where he had no reason keep it up and everything came crashing down and he had nowhere to hide...no strong arms to wrap around him in comfort...nothing.

 

Sighing deeply, he honestly wished he could be almost anywhere else. But this was where he didn’t feel so alone, where he felt safe, and where his heart lay. “Hey. Bet you're surprised to see me.” running his hands through his hair trying to stop the shaking. “I've been here...just not able to come so close...scared to face the finality. I know that makes no real sense ...death is final...but ... I wasn’t going to come by as often…but I can’t stay away. God I miss you so much. I can’t believe it’s been two years already. There is so much I need and want to say.”

 

And before you ask…no, I haven’t gone back to work. I tried…honestly. But I couldn’t…it felt wrong somehow without you. Can’t get past that, so I resigned. Maybe not the smartest thing I have ever done, but it hurt so much to sit in the bull pen and not see you there.”

 

“Guess I should tell you that I haven’t seen anyone lately...everyone keeps telling me I need to move forward...need to get on with my life. They're all telling me to step out of my grief. But how the hell am I supposed to do that when all I feel is emptiness? When there is a huge hole in my chest that threatens to swallow me? When all I want to do is be with you...and so here I am. Not how I want it to be at all.” 

 

“It should have been me damn it. You are far stronger that I am…you would have been able to get past this. Guess I should be proud that I didn’t use my own gun and join you. Thought about it. Had it in my hand several times…sitting there thinking how easy it would be. But then I would hear your voice telling me no…this isn’t the way.”

 

“See…I still listen - to you at least. I’m sorry but our friends as well-meaning as they are don’t get it. They don’t know how lost and empty I am without you. Those trying to help seem to make the loneliness more intense somehow. They amplify the silence that I already hear and all I end up doing is shutting them out.”

 

“I have tried to get back to the living believe me. I put on my game face and went to work trying to get back into life…but I couldn't bring myself to care anymore. I tried to see someone…went to grief counseling, joined groups…but they didn’t know you…us. The only thing we all had in common was loss and suddenly I didn’t want to share you with anyone. Is that selfish?”

 

“Don't get me started on the seven stages of grief that everyone goes on about. I've shouted at the heavens, berated a God I no longer believe exists, cried, wanted to end it all and I would have sold my soul to the devil to bring you back.”

 

“But the whole upward turn, acceptance and getting on with life just ain’t happening and right now… it still feels impossible. It hurts to breathe…everything hurts too damn much Jethro. Living hurts. I've tried working on the boat we started for our retirement. Thought I might finish it and sail it like we planned.”

 

“Not sure I can do that…but I am trying, that has to count for something. Guess all those years of watching you I absorbed some small ability to build. Did you know that sawdust doesn’t smell the same without you? How sad does that make me that I tried to make the house smell like you?”

 

“I miss the smell…it faded so quickly…and I haven’t been able to get it back.” Tony sighed sinking down to the ground his back resting against the headstone. ”I know that everyone is trying to help me and I truly appreciate their effort especially considering how uncooperative I have been and still am. But they can't...the one person that would understand the depth of loss I feel and know what to say…or even how to say nothing but still help, is gone.”

 

“You are who I need…you are who I want and you are the one thing I can’t have. Don’t know how to do this Jet…still trying to figure it out. Do you have any idea how much I love you? Did I tell you often enough…show you? I always thought we’d have so much more time.”

 

Looking towards the sky the tears flowed, his loss palpable. “Fuck you. Why the hell did you have to take him? What the fuck did I do to you? He was mine damn it….he was mine...”


End file.
